


Stroke of Serendipity

by asianbro10



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Wanna One
Genre: ????wtf ao3 tags are wild why are there so many, Angst, Crossover, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Slow Romance, THIS IS FOR MY WONDERFUL AND BESUTIFUL HUBBY CLAIRE WHOM I LOVE SO DESRLY, and full of "original characters", ehh yeah ik this is a weird idea, follow her on tumblr @dearlydaehwi, im just obsessed with both hp and w1 so, which are actually all my mutuals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-08 15:02:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asianbro10/pseuds/asianbro10
Summary: serendipity/ˌsɛr(ə)nˈdɪpɪtinounthe occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.Fortunate happenstance has little to do with fate, but much to do with serendipity. Claire doesn't associate herself with the impracticality of fate or predestination. She much prefers the notion of serendipity; a term coined for its prevalence in scientific innovation, dependent on circumstances by pure chance rather than destiny. Ironic, considering a witch whom practises wizardry finds greater belief in that of logic than magic. There are many instances wherein a situation may be considered serendipitous; an accidental invention, a chanced upon discovery, a trail forking away from the path of misfortune. But Claire's serendipitous event is unconventional- it neither presents itself to her in its weight in gold or weight in fame: it is neither title nor status, but goes by name. Her stroke of serendipity is called Lee Daehwi.





	1. Prologue : The Secret Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> Heeyy, soo... This work is gifted to my AMAZING BEAUTIFUL TALENTED SHOWSTOPPING BREATHTAKING HUBBY Claire, whom I'm so glad to have met <333 She's absolute Lee Daehwi trash so that's why I'm writing this for her. I also included every other beautiful soul from my group chat so go follow them on tumblr!! (Please bare with me, the prologue is p cryptic and short but hopefully everything clears up as the plot progresses)
> 
> Claire = @dearlydaehwi  
> Jiu = @daisydaehwi  
> Colleen = @furryowo  
> Hatice = @soweakpunches  
> Charlie = @wannaoneioi  
> Hana = @wannabl  
> Maria = @dearestguanlin  
> Amy = @idaehwi  
> Pingdi = @dae-hwee  
> Ashleigh = @lee-daehwiis
> 
> Have a good day and thanks for reading <333

Folks in the old town always said a stroke of serendipity would be bestowed upon those who most needed it, but London has always been less forgiving.

The distant cityscape was silhouetted against an iron grey sky where snowflakes were continuously drifting earthbound. One of the iridescent fractals danced and waltzed its way earthward in front of the parlour window Enriquez was standing before.  
By no margins was the stranger anything less than a dark blot of anxiety harrowing Enriquez's conscience, but neither did he exude any apparent underlying sinister intentions. How he could gather such conclusions, he can only dictate on probability. The unknown man's posture was relaxed, almost as if he were reclining against the doorway, not the stance of a man ready to commit felony, unless he was a qualified criminal whose brutality no longer fazed himself. Neither did he have the insignia Enriquez had come to fear so sewn to his breast.  
The fine lace of undisturbed snow powdering the brim of his hat and cloak proved the man had been standing there for quite some time. He was a crinkle in time; everything else moved, the sun as it inched through the smog to dip at the skyline, frolicking children swarming the plaza, people interspersed throughout the fray- even the sky was animated with the descent of swirling snow.  
The stranger was a peculiar fellow, robed in black and fuchsia padded velvet, attire that would be considered by most either to be in extremely poor taste or of such outdated fashion his living, breathing existence is a relic. Not to Enriquez though.  
Fortunately for the stranger, concealment was effortless. Something about wizardry always exhibited so little notice from the limited attention span of muggles. So, those bustling on the street shambled on past him, not sparing the man any double-take as one would expect with someone garbed in apparel so outlandish, neither did they notice the doorway he was standing in that was previously but a plain brick wall.  
The sun crawled on. Darkness advanced. The crowds thinned out, an ocean of people splitting into rivers, streams, a trickle. The stranger makes his first move.  
His light steps ghosted across the ground, barely leaving any trace of footprints. With great strides, he crossed the plaza, making a beeline for the Enriquez residence, which, to all but those meant for it, would not be visible. This surprised Enriquez so immensely, he stalled in the foyer, unsure of the stranger's ambiguous objective.  
But he could stall more. The stranger was upon the threshold of the Enriquez residence.  
"Is Claire asleep?" He queried sharply to his wife. "He's coming. We may have to get ready."  
"She is," she affirmed, wand in hand, climbing up to the landing to where their daughter would be slumbering soundly, unaware of the potential peril.  
What to do? What to do?  
The answer, however, was given to him. The man, face levelled with the window paned into the door, had with one fell swoop, removed the hat from his head, releasing a head of fiery hair into the world that ignited the sky. His eyes were akin to deep forest springs, so green they were. Usually with some mischievous disposition they twinkled, but today the man had steeled himself with a sombre, grave regard to the circumstances. In his gloved hand was a suitcase, branded with some cryptic insignia.  
Enriquez's wand hand sagged limp to his side.  
"What a pity muggles never meant for their broomsticks to fly. I went to see a muggle game the other day. You can only stand to watch a couple of those gits piffing an inanimate ball at each other for so long." The unmasked man beamed with the amiability of someone exchanging pleasantries, but also with the grimness of a bearer of bad news.  
When Claire would finally awaken in the late hours of the waning nighttime, the man would have already, barehanded, vanished into the gaping jaws of labyrinthine London in a flurry of snow, cloaked in the same shroud of mystery in which had masked his arrival. No evidence of his existence would ever be made apparent to Claire, if only entailed by the three teacups left on the dining table, two emptied to the dregs, one cryptically untouched by some unknown third party. And even if she were to peer out the parlour window, even the last of his footprints pressed into the snowy tarmac would have long been claimed by forces of nature.  
"Secret Keeper of the Enriquez family, ready at your service."


	2. Long Days, Long Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire is emo

Claire had not been at Hogwarts for long, yet it seemed already she had asserted herself in such a position that teachers viewed upon her favourably with that of great expectations. And with these great expectations tagged along innumerable responsibilities.  
So it was on such a day where while much of the student body had flocked, the air buzzing with the unanimous and feverish excitement for the first game of the season, to the Quidditch pitch, Claire found herself occupied in the library with a mountainous stack of books piled before her. For the most part, she was alone, isolated from the rest of the world, a barrier of books barricading her within the confines of her own troubled mind.  
That was, besides the boy whom was seated one shelf away, immersed within his own world, whittling away the long hours that Claire thought she would be spending entirely alone. He was poor company though as he made no effort to converse with her, and strangely enough a possessive sense of stubborn competitiveness sparked within her. If I'm not the only one who willingly studies through a game, then I need to try harder.  
Powdered flurorite, jobberknoll feathers, secretion of freshwater grindylow, sprig of rosemary, extraction of ginseng... The scratch of her quill accompanied the monotonous drill of her train of thought. She paused to ponder, brushing aside a lock of brown hair. _If I get the order wrong I can kiss goodbye for a Witch Weekly publication... I need to run this through with Professor Seungjae as soon as possible._  
Seated beside the mullioned window, distant noises from the ongoing Quidditch game floated into audibility, carried up by the wind to sky-high proportions. She'd long since mastered the ability to dissociate herself from such detrimental distractions. People's voices faded into the background like white noise, leaving behind all but her own internal monologue. But after strenuous hours of studying, her finely attuned mind had began to waver. Yoon Jisung's booming, magically amplified announcer voice was hard too miss.  
"And we have Kang Daniel in possession of the Quaffle, he's going in for the shot, and he shoots, and he seems as if he's gonna- OH, brilliant interception on the part of Gryffindor beater Park Woojin- for god's sake stop arguing you guys I'm trying to commentate a game- KANG BACK AGAIN WITH THE QUAFFLE, a legendary player he is, but as much as I want my house to win he did bet on all twenty of his cats he'd stop sleep-talking if he lost- _HANA I SWEAR STOP SCREAMING_ \- ok he's going in for the shot again- SAVED BY GRYFFINDOR KEEPER IM YOUNGMIN." This ensured a cacophony cheers.  
Shut it out. Shut it out. Claire scrutinised her parchment before shifting through her mound of books. _Grind fluorite in slow counter then counter-clockwise motion..._ "KANG AND ONG, BOTH RESPECTIVE CAPTAINS, FIGHTING FOR POSSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE! ONG PASSES TO KIM DONGHYUN, BUT KANG SNATCHES IT BACK AND PASSES TO SEO SUNGHYUK..." _add to the potion now simmering an iridescent greenish where flecks of light would begin to emerge, the potion is thereby successful if these flecks sink instead of submerge, and the liquid begins to nullify in colour..._ "AND... wait... is that..? YES THAT SEEMS TO BE COLLEEN ALCANO. SHE'S CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH! MATCH OVER!" ...catch this golden snitch...  
Claire jerked upright. Golden snitch? Colleen? Scrambling with rejuvenated vigour to the window, she stuck her head out. The view from the library tower was a poor one, the flying, circling figures below at the Quidditch pitch mere pinpricks fighting the wind amidst the uproar coming from the pitch.  
But sure enough, the door to the library burst open within the hour and a rowdy bunch entered, some of them in heated debate, tailed by Jiu and Hatice.  
"Listen, it was a close one. Had Ong not saved that last shot, it would be our win for sure-"  
"Shut up Charlie, Colleen had this in the bag from the start, didn't you? Gryffindor won the match by a large margin-" retaliated Jenny, swinging her red scarf over her shoulder viciously.  
"No, no, I think the odds were somewhat in my favour. After all, the wind did blow the snitch right into my outstretched palm," said Colleen, but despite this she was still flushed brightly with the heat of the game and the heat of the victory, hair wind blown and still garbed in her Quidditch get-up.  
"Colleen! Stop being so humble, you were diddly darn brilliant for fuck's sake, and anyhow, even if the wind blew it in, that wouldn't have happened if you were even one inch further away. You're a superb flyer!" Jenny berated passive aggressively.  
"Umji told me to tell you that she admires you Colleen," deadpanned Maria as she moved away towards the shelves. Colleen walked into a table.  
"Wait, she said that? What else did she-" but Maria had already disappeared behind a shelf, probably perusing the books she could borrow for her next class.  
"Well, what about Woojin?" She spluttered, red-faced, trying to regain her composure. "He did an amazing job as beater. Had he not sent that bludger toward Kang, I doubt we would've won. We didn't break that tie between us until the very last moment of the game." They approached the table Claire was seated at.  
"Oh yeah, Park, you hear that?" Jenny called behind her shoulder at the red-haired, snaggletoothed Park Woojin who had broken away from the fray and sidled up to talk to the other boy in the library. "You did good!"  
He waved his hand dismissively at her and dumped his Quidditch gear atop the boy's books that he had hastily slammed shut upon his arrival, forcing him to look up and acknowledge him with a smile- a smile that seemed tired and strained but was so genuine the room almost visibly brightened.  
A crinkle in the corner of his eyes. A ruffle of his grey hair tousled by Woojin. An endearing grin. A skip of Claire's heart. She hurriedly averted her eyes.  
"Anyway, what do you know about Quidditch anyway? You're not even on the team Charlie."  
"Says you. You wouldn't be able to catch a ball with both hands and two feet on the ground, Jenny. You fell off a comet 260 in first grade, that shit's so ancient it can barely move a couple of inches off the ground and you still managed it. Me? I'm tight as fuck. I'm gonna start my own Quidditch team eventually, call it the Waltzing Waluigis-"  
"Hey Claire. How's studying?" Interrupted Jenny, plopping into the chair beside her with a general disregard to her notes, sending several rolls of parchment flying.  
"Brilliant. I could go for a few more hours talking about grindylow secretions," huffed Claire sarcastically. "Congratulations on the game, Colleen!"  
"Thanks Claire. But you're the one out here doing the most," said Colleen, stripping off her Quidditch gloves. "You studied until three last night, and now you're still at it."  
"Yeah, sorry I couldn't make it to your game-"  
"That doesn't matter Claire!" Insisted Jenny, rocking back and forth in the chair. "What matters is you stop overworking yourself!"  
"I don't think I've seen you outside of class or the library," chimed in Charlie. "Seriously Claire. Catch a break, ok?"  
"I don't hate this really. All this work will ultimately pay off, after all."  
_Yep. Hate this._  
"Claire," said someone softly, and Hatice's hand was softly resting upon her back. Hatice Han was, in everyone's mind, a pillar of comfort, but that was usually only reserved to those worthy of her attention. "See me in the common room at ten tonight, alright?"  
Claire hesitated. How much she yearned for that. She was envious, watching other students kick back in the common room around the evening with nothing to occupy their hours but to watch the green light emanating from the Black Lake outside the windows that submerged them in an ethereal glow. But as she glanced back up, the boy had resumed his own studying, even as Park Woojin gazed at him wistfully with the same concern her own friends harboured for her.  
She can't lose to anyone.  
"Sorry, Hatice," Grinned Claire. "Can't. I probably won't be back until three again. I'll be failing all my professors, who even gave me explicit permission to stay in the library after hours to study as long as I need to. But I'll try and make it before then this time."  
Jenny subtly exchanged her visible scrutiny and doubt with Amy and Jiu, which Claire caught.  
"Guys," she stressed. "There's nothing I can do about it and I'm not gonna evade it." She probably ruined a perfectly festive mood with their worry.  
"Don't you feel tired?"  
"I feel like I'm high on drugs, just not as nice."  
"What-"  
"Claire don't-"  
"You've reached peak emo-"  
"...alright," shrugged Maria. Something about her always exuded an air of maturity and poise, a young body trapping a mind wise beyond her years."You have to do what you have to do."  
"You're only saying that because you're a workaholic too," countered Charlie.  
Claire shifted uncomfortably in her hard wooden seat, wishing the inquisition on her would stop. "Where's Hana?" She pondered aloud.  
"She went back to the dorms to study immediately after the game."  
"You see? I'm not the only one."  
They eventually retired for the day, returning to their respective houses, all except Claire whom had resumed her studies. The sunlight spooling through the windows waned, and the lamps all around flickered to life, casting elongated shadows that haunted at the edge of Claire's conscious as she struggled between watchful wakefulness and the tide of drowsiness that was beginning to drag her out to sea. Words jumbled and lost meaning in her mind, falling out one ear as she murmured more through the other.  
"Extraction of freshwater grindylow... when dissecting the anatomy of a grindylow, it is essential not to expose it to polluted air, as it will spoil the contents of its innards... the corpse must be fresh and disembowelled within the hour... The secretions should tested to be acidic..."  
Something rolled and collided with her foot, and upon impact, bounced back and started rolling back under the table.  
Blearily, Claire slipped down in her seat, eyes adjusting to hazy semi-darkness as she felt around for the object. "Lumos," she murmured, throat rusty with disuse. The light burgeoning from the tip of her wand was weak, a feat that reflected her current state of being. But it was enough, and she lifted her wand.  
Two luminous eyes in which in its depths her light was dancing, gazed back at her. It pierced through her soul and all that was tangible, and Claire saw in them, perhaps the deception of a sleep-deprived mind, all that was wondrous and all that was bitterly sorrowful.  
Claire was not as startled as she would be under any other circumstances; her breath was ragged, and her groggy mind pieced together what she was looking at. The boy gazed back at her, the ink pot which had fallen and hit against Claire's foot back in his grasp.  
He was so close; Claire felt his breath against her neck, dewy and warm and painfully real, and it clouded her senses like a drug. He looked like a curious creature with the tilt of his head, features that were small and slight that compelled her with the urge to protect as one would be compelled to when they see a small, vulnerable animal. The strands of his ashen grey hair were somewhat dishevelled, as if they were run through with fingers repeatedly over long hours, and now hung limply over his temple.  
Looking back, it could've even been phantasmagoric; anything in the mind was possible when the night was aged and the mind was wearied.  
"Akaline," he said. His voice was so soft it could've been mistaken for an exhale of breath. "It's not supposed to be acidic, it's akaline because it's freshwater."  
And with that, the boy vanished back into the darkness in which Claire did not know he would remain in for a long time to come.

\- : ; : ; , ; : ; : -

The Colorado town her folk resided in was quaint, small and boring, but most of all it was superstitious and it was home. Much of Claire's beliefs stemmed from the people that lived there; most of it was old people, whom believed in greater things for greater people. It was common and unanimous knowledge passed down through generations that luck was often not coincidental, and everything served its purpose, each little thing conjoining and spurring new series of events that were serendipitous. And in that town, everyone was family, and family shared everything, including good fortune.  
But London was not family. London had been too unfamiliar, too big and too new, and nobody shared anything, so there was little good fortune to go around. And since moving to Hogwarts, Claire has not yet met her stroke of serendipity.  
"Guys... This is boring."  
Claire blinked the world back into comprehensibility. The library was where she devoted most her days, and that was where the whole gang was now crowded in one Sunday afternoon, insisting on keeping her company which was not going as well as first conceived.  
"Shhh... It'll come to you naturally Jenny." Claire shifted in her seat, slowly raising her head from her arms that were laden across the table. She had befallen to fatigue, again. Jenny was lying on the library floor, glaring at the window. Flanking her, Jiu and Jung Sewoon were splayed, in much more affable moods, across the floor. The latter was leaning against a shelf, strumming the guitar cradled close to his body, a soft melody that traversed library ears. As much as his nature was soft and shy with a hint of charming awkwardness, he was a crowd-bringer with his amiable personality and musical forte, and many of the library goers were present to listen to him perform.  
"What am I supposed to be doing again?" Jenny wondered aloud, visibly disgruntled.  
"Meditating. It'll help you, with your anger management issues," said Sewoon, eyes closed in the bliss of the moment, lulled by the swell of his music, but as tactless as ever in the most harmless way possible.  
"I do not have anger management issues."  
"You do not realise it, but that's natural. But slowly inner peace will come to you without realising it." He spoke with an infinite patience, with an eternal wonder as if every little detail no matter how insignificant, piqued his interest. Or, in Jenny's opinion, talks so slow through an ungainly accent that by the time he finished any sentence the earth had complete its rotation.  
"I DO NOT HAVE ANGER ISSUES, JUNG."  
Jiu chuckled softly, brushing long brown hair off full, heated cheeks. "Listen to the man, Jenny," she chided softly.  
"Now, it could be that you haven't rested enough. Stress, anger... It manifests itself. How did you sleep last night?" He asked.  
"Slept like a baby."  
"Then what-"  
"Do you know how a baby really sleeps, Sewoon, and how we're similar?" She said in comical solemnity. "We're both screaming the moment we wake up."  
"Hmm..." Sewoon lazily opened one eye, unresponsive to her humour that the others snickered at. His eyes were almost abnormally sized and shaped, rendering him with a bug-eyed look as if he were constantly in awe but it was oddly endearing, especially to Jiu. The musical number faded gradually into the background.  
"What should I play next, Toni?" He said, head lolling to the side as he smiled at her, a head of downy brown rumpled against the shelf.  
Jiu's eyes were downcast but peering at him through his lashes. "Just U?" she suggested shyly. Captured in the moment, she couldn't ask for more.  
"If the lady wishes," said Sewoon, and awkwardly attempted to sit back up as he slid slowly down the shelf he was leaning against, inciting murmurs of mirth from the crowd.  
"Why didn't you guys wake me up?" Claire croaked to Ashleigh, Maria, Hatice and Pingdi that appeared to be the only few who were attempting to study, seated at the same table she was slumbering at.  
"You looked like you needed the rest. If you didn't fall asleep of your own accord, you wouldn't have listened to us and gone to bed," said Ashleigh. "What are you writing, anyway?"  
"My manuscript for Professor Seungjae... It's about a memory potion I enhanced into my own that can potentially be published into Witch Weekly for most outstanding witch student of the month."  
"You really impress me, Claire," praised Hatice. Maria's head was still buried in her notes. Hana was thumping her head repeatedly into her open book, cursing incoherently. "What was that, Hana?"  
"I SAID I CAN'T FEEL MY FUCKING EYES HAASNSHHDSNSJSK."  
"She said she can't feel her fu-"  
"I heard her this time round, Pingdi."  
Sewoon's sweet, mellifluous singing drifted in and out of ambiance. " _What can’t I do? You’re so pretty, I spent a whole week out of it_..." Ashen grey hair, disheveled. Pointed elven like ears, poking through. " _I can’t hide it, look, you know this but_..." Pretty puckered lips, pretty hands. " _You keep playing with me anyway_..." Uneven eyelids, gaze that touched the soul. All in the darkness underneath a library table.  
Claire groaned and her face sunk back onto the table. Surely, a side effect of lethargy induced delirium.  
"What're you doing on the ground, idiot?" Charlie's voice, seeming so distant, seeming so faraway, just like everything else. She was in her own bubble again, and everything was miles and miles away.  
"Meditating my anger away, apparently. You should try it."  
"Where's Colleen?"  
"Quidditch practise."  
"She just finished the first game and they're already practising for the next?"  
"Of course, the Gryffindor Quidditch team is pretty intense."  
"Hufflepuff better win against Slytherin next match or we're dead meat. Also can you get up? I'm sick of you speaking from the floor."  
"How about you get down on my level?"  
Sewoon's singing was drowned out by a tidal wave of giggling as a swarm of frantic girls suddenly pushed through the library entrance, pursuing a tall, rigidly stoic boy. The male population of Sewoon's spectators took their leave, while many of the girls leaned over in their seats to get a good ogle of him. His features were seemingly chiselled into alabaster skin, a sharp contrast to his dark hair swept up away from his handsome, indifferent face.  
"Lai Guanlin, the fifth year?" Sighed Ashleigh, head drooping suite. "We'll never be able to study if he and his fanclub is in here." Maria stiffened, and pressed the tip of her quill with such excess of force it seared a tear into her parchment.  
"What time is it?" Groaned Claire, head rested against her arms as she watched Lai Guanlin vanish into the shelves, shadowed by his own army.  
"Three o'clock, I think," informed Hatice. Charlie and Jenny were now both arguing on the floor, Sewoon had returned to the Hufflepuff dorms and Jiu was sitting with her knees drawn up, smiling through a sense of slight dejection. Somewhere from the deepest depths of the castle, the maniacal laughter of Kim Jaehwan resounds far and wide.  
Claire choked, shooting off her own chair.  
"What!? I'm late for Professor Seungjae's meeting!" Before anyone could reassure her of anything, Claire had haphazardly gathered all her belongings and dashed from the library.

\- : ; : ; , ; : ; : -

Motes of opalescence had began to form within the clarion and colourless liquid by the time it was ladled and corked within the glass vial in Claire's cautious grip. As she held it up for inspection, it caught a ray of lamplight and within its depths the phosphorous flecks scintillated, as stars do buried in the cosmos. She hastily slipped the concoction into her robes along with her roll of manuscript.  
She was alone in the dungeons, encased within a world of countless shelved vials, bottles, jars in a rainbow of coloured liquids. She was her own company, as she usually was in the late of night. The words of textbooks substituted that of conversation, and Claire was okay with it, but sometimes, she wished there were someone else to fill the space.  
The door shifted, and creaked open. Professor Seungjae's entrance sent Claire darting up to him, hand already disappearing into her robe pocket. "Professor! I have both the potion and the manuscript ready. It outlines and details the properties, the steps, the result, and just how you requested, also my process of experimentation in creating it. I worked upon the basic original memory charm, and I think my potion really makes the difference in execution-"  
"Miss Enriquez," interrupted Professor Seungjae. He was a rounded man with pinched features that tended to exaggerate facial activity, especially when he grinned, lips that pulled apart to a protruding, toothy smile that seemed almost mousey. But right now he was far from jovial; he seemed awfully pained.  
Claire's forced, fixed smile remained engraved. "I'm sure you've worked extremely hard, on this project. You've stayed back in lessons to utilise the dungeons almost everyday to brew your idealised potion, and you received my permission to even stay back in the library after curfew. For almost a month, I believe. You've been an outstanding student, and you've only just started at Hogwarts."  
The impending doom of his implications were beginning to settle over Claire like an ominous shroud.  
"I'm afraid," he said, venturing forth with utmost prudence in his selection of words, "That another student has been selected. I am sorry, but my recommendation for Witch Weekly was turned down. If I had known earlier, I would've prevented you all the unnecessary hard work on you."  
For a moment, words failed her, and so did all sense of rational thought. Then she cleared her clogged throat. "That's... That's fine, professor. Who..?"  
"Not anyone from Hogwarts," he assured quickly. "A Beaubaxtons student. Don't be too dispirited, Miss Enriquez. I'm sure there is some bias for a school as prestigious as Beabaxtons. You are in my opinion, the best witch of this generation in my books."  
Claire didn't stay for long. She wanted out as quickly as possible, so that's what she did. Body hunched against the buffeting gale that was tinged with the icy promise of snow, she remained leaning, stagnant and crestfallen, against the parapet overlooking distant Hogwarts grounds. Digging her fingers into her pocket, she curled them into the rolled parchment, marked with the words she toiled away to produce long days spent cooped away, long nights spent sleepless.  
The astronomy tower was her favourite place to reside, where the most favourable view lay. Usually its doors were locked to prevent students from venturing to its precarious heights outside of class, but Claire had long since perfected an act as trivial as breaking in via magic. Long winds swept her hair towards the sky, weighed down by an underbelly full of snow yet to fall, heralding a longer winter to come. In the distance, the Scottish mountains stitched together patches of forested plain, grassy gorge and muggle village.  
The view was a nice change from the library desk, the dungeon wall, an open textbook. Someone else also frequented the seventh floor, and on her way down Claire heard him singing in an abandoned classroom with such soul she sat by the foot of the spiral staircase to listen, and even after the last verse long died and settled like fine dust into the ambiance, her tears were only just emerging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first chapter..... I realised the format is different from other stories bc instead of writing it directly on ao3 I type it into a seperate doc and copy and paste, which would explain why there's no gaps between each line.... ANYHOW, I'll definitely be posting more. Who even reads this smh, but I'm doing it for my mutuals!! 
> 
> Gotta blast!!


	3. The Founding of Ilvermorny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down lol

The biggest wizard-driven massacre documented in recent history was feigned under the guise of something accidental, from muggle and wizard alike and involved the deaths of several of the Potters, including twelve other muggle victims. The true perpetrator still remains incognito, having vanished shortly after his long trail of crimes the year Claire turned eight. When authorities arrived upon the scene, all victims had virtually vaporised to ash, and was regarded to be an unfortunate passing for kin of The Boy Who Lived.   
A few, however, had never been convinced of the legitimacy of its coverup, despite the public announcement that the case had been formally closed, both from the Ministry of Magic and muggle law enforcements, having being convinced of bigger and more malicious underlying intentions at play. A grim reminder to all marking its 9th year anniversary presented itself in flyers that swept across Hogwarts grounds, carried by winds from Hogsmeade, more deposited along with the daily paper via owl post. Claire felt she did not need to see more of such a depressing topic as she fished out the tightly rolled flyer that the barn owl had jammed forcibly down the spout of a honey pot before taking off, only putting a damper on her already souring mood. _Who was distributing this stuff anyway?_  
"Are you sure you're ok, Claire?" Asked Hatice. Her concern was touching, but empathy unfortunately could not assist her through the downward spiral that was progressively getting worse. Her eyes felt heavy, weighed down by dark bags that no amount of makeup could conceal fully, also swelled slightly from profuse sobbing.   
"Yeah. I'm feeling stellar."  
"Claire, please don't lie to-"  
"Yeah, yeah. I feel incredibly shitty."   
Hatice shovelled more cereal into Claire's bowl of milk for her. "We all know how much work you've done in the last few days. Even if Witch Weekly won't accept you, your work ethic will never fail you. One day, all your hard work will be repaid- put that stuff away and eat."  
"Right, right, ok." Claire rubbed her eyes tiredly, packing away her homework notes. "Thanks, Hatice."  
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was ashy, and finally looked susceptible to the first snowfall of the season. She chewed mechanically and chocked when someone cuffed her on the back of her neck.  
"Hey hey, watch it Gryffindor-"   
"Be quiet and eat your oatmeal Kang. How're you feeling hubby?" Said Jenny, swinging onto the bench beside her.  
Claire cracked a weak smile, still trying cough up the loose flakes. "I cried all night being emo-"  
"-or, the politically correct term, _goth_ -"  
"-but yeah. I'm over it."  
Charlie spotted them congregating and sidled over with her own breakfast and shimmied forcibly in between Claire and Jenny. "I feel a little uncomfortable unless I insert myself into the nearest conversation."  
"We're all proud of you, Claire, honestly."  
"Claire? Iconic."  
"Don't you fucking forget that you hear, or I'm gonna shove Hana up your a-"  
"Do I hear people complimenting our wonderful Claire?" Called Amy, and she dragged Jiu and Ashleigh over from the Hufflepuff table. Flustered by their attention but softened by their flattery, Claire was not the centre of much attention often, but sometimes the embarrassment was worth it. They were garnering some publicity over the small crowd now converging at the Slytherin table.   
"CLAIRE WE FUCKING LOVE YOU TOO, DON'T FORGET THAT YOU FUCKING BITC-" Her voice cut off with a wet plunk. Maria and Pingdi waved to Claire encouragingly before proceeding to extract Hana's face from the milk and cereal.  
"I heard Hana fell asleep in Transfiguration again. Kahi transfigured her textbook into an alarm clock, and I heard her say her ears are still ringing with the sound."  
With a flurry of numerous wings, the next batch of morning post arrived via owl, swooping low and dropping the day's copy of the Dailey Prophet into the laps of their respective recipients. The barn owl that delivered Claire's roll of newspaper paused swiftly to help himself to her cornflakes before swooping off again into the white morning.   
Mood considerably heartened, she unrolled the paper and busied herself with the prospects of the day instead of being swept along by the regrets of yesterday. Another flyer dropped out, and she brushed it off impatiently. The Daily Prophet boasted headlines that were usually bolstered and hyperbolised by varying degrees of dramatic flair to make the news seem somewhat interesting, courtesy of the prophet's most esteemed journalist Lysander Scamander. " _Illegal trafficking of mooncalves lead to potential threat of perilous overbreeding, Existence of Nargles: Proven?, Corrupt MACUSA official once again removed..._ "  
"Speaking of MACUSA," said Ashleigh, leaning in. "Didn't you say your dad used to work for MACUSA?"  
"Yeah, he did, up until we moved here," Claire replied.   
"I was wondering... Why did you move, exactly? I thought students of Ilvermorny were super proud about their school, I didn't think any of them would willingly move to a competing school like Hogwarts," queried Ashleigh curiously.   
Whenever the topic arose, Claire disliked it. This was mainly due to the fact she herself had such a little grasp on her father's intentions. He was an enigmatic man whom kept mostly to himself, always stowed away immersed by his findings, and always seemed to harbour underlying motives. He lived in a world of secrecy and business and never seemed to be present in her life. It seemed whenever a question was directed his way, it usually resulted in a brusque answer that should warrant a much greater depth of explanation.  
"For his job. He found a new one, at the ministry," she confirmed. A flash of white flashed by her peripheral, and her gaze followed the snowy owl to the other end of the Slytherin table where it descended gracefully in fully outstretched wingspan, to perch onto the raised arm of-  
"UGH." Claire glanced back over to Hatice, whom had her head now buried into a textbook. "I despise arithmancy, with every inch of my being. I cannot comprehend, how people can tolerate this subject."  
"Are you struggling, Hatice?"   
"Yes, yes I am. I want to drop it-"  
"I think maybe you should try and get some help for it before considering dropping it," suggested Jenny. "I mean, you've come so far. I think tutoring would be of help, I know someone that can help. Then afterwards, you can decide."  
Before Hatice could object, all conversation was discontinued by yet another approaching figure. Claire didn't yet have a chance to twist in her seat and see before the person had tapped Charlie, who was gorging on her breakfast, on the shoulder. Charlie glanced up over her shoulder and choked.   
"Hey Charlie," exclaimed Daniel Kang, beaming. "I was wondering where you were."   
Daniel Kang was the daydream of many. A strapping jock of a young man, his rugged, broad-shouldered form could often be seen hulking down on his broomstick during Quidditch practise. He was easily amongst the most distinguished of figures of Hogwarts, and a force to be reckoned with. Effortlessly handsome, humorous, humble, he boasted the title of several house Quidditch championships, as well as Triwizard Champion the previous year. People pined for his praise, clamoured for his attention, but were usually pushed to the outskirts of his posse of similarly revered peers. Daniel was of amiable character and well-natured temperament, but his popularity prevented him from been viewed as just another student.   
Very audibly so, Jenny whispered, "What the _fuck_."  
Every head in the vicinity had turned and was staring at the latest addition to the Slytherin table, at the charming smile that bunched his cheeks up and slanted his eyes into crescent moons of laughter, dark brown hair messy but artfully so, as if every flyaway strand was swept up purposefully by an articulate hand.   
"Uhh..." Charlie looked at a loss for words, flailing for something to say, and glanced desperately at her friends for assistance. Ashleigh and Jiu were still staring at Daniel, flabbergasted, Jenny and Amy muttering to each other and Claire still didn't think she had a full grasp on the situation.   
"So... I've heard you can play Quidditch quite well, and I was wondering whether you'd like to try out to be our seeker? Our one uh, quit yesterday, after the game." Hufflepuff's unprecedented loss must've taken a toll to their pride. Charlie still said nothing, still swinging wildly from person to person.   
"Yes Charlie," hissed Claire into her ear. "Say yes."  
"Wha-"  
Sensing his oncoming reluctance, Daniel backed up before he could turn him down. "Have a think about it, kiddo, and get back to me soon," he said, and ruffled Charlie's hair before jogging his way out to reunite with his laughing friends.  
Charlie turned back to everyone, mouth still agape, unresponsive to the spillage of crumbs now trailing down the front of her robes. " _Daniel Kang knows my name_."  
"Yeah, he sure does," said Amy, eyebrow raised. "Fancy that."  
"What's wrong, kiddo?" Teased Jenny. "I thought you were tight as fuck. You were gonna make your own Quidditch team right, the Waltzing Wa-"  
"Daniel Kang never loses. And when he does, once in a goddamn blue moon, it's against Ong!" Snapped Charlie.  
"So?" Said Amy, incredulous. The close encounter with the Hogwarts sweetheart still had her a little starstruck.  
"What I'm saying," stressed Charlie, crumbs still escaping her mouth for a bid for freedom. "Is that I'm gonna be a dead weight that drags them down and I'll be the Hogwarts laughing stock."  
"Oh, no you won't Charlie, I've seen you play, you're brilliant-" Objected Claire.  
"Yeah, when I'm against flyers that haven't flown a broomstick since first grade," groaned Charlie. "Next game, Hufflepuff versus Slytherin? Dude, I'm gonna have to outfly Park Jihoon, he's probably the best seeker out of all the houses-"   
"No, Colleen is the best seeker-" started Jenny crossly.   
"And dude have you seen that Dongho Kang? He's gonna obliterate me with the bludger-"  
"Oh, the same Dongho Kang that I just told to shut up?"   
"You WHAT-"   
"He's harmless, Charlie. He just looks-"  
"Like he could crush my ass into the centre of the earth? Yeah, he does."  
After Charlie had finally abandoned all hysterics and finished breathing heavily through her nose, she finally awakened to her senses enough to brush herself down. "I've gotta... I've gotta think of something... An excuse..." She started muttering under her breath. "Dragon pox... no, leprosy... Yes I've contracted leprosy..."  
Down the other end of the Slytherin table, the boy with snowy owl had left.

\- : ; : ; , ; : ; : -

Entering History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, Claire and Hatice were probably the only ones anticipating the forthcoming lesson. Often, Claire felt a sense of foreboding constantly accompanying her about her activities. A constant pressure to succeed and achieve above and beyond, but History of Magic was a class she both enjoyed and could comprehend, and she allowed herself to calm.  
This could not be said for much of the class, and they all dumped their books upon their desks with visible disgruntlement for the boring hour and a half to come. As usual, Claire sat herself right in front Professor Binn's desk, flanked by Hatice and Maria. But one boy, the boy with the books, was by the back of the class, stacking a mountain beside him. Already, he had unrolled a roll of fresh parchment before him, and was scouring through the history textbook, quill tucked behind one pointed ear at the ready. Strands of loose grey hair fell over his face as he bent to study, coyly playing hide-and-seek with his downcast eyes.  
"Claire? What're you looking at?"  
"Nothing," she responded, twisting back to face the front again.   
The candles guttered in their holders as Professor Binns the ghost teacher glided through the chalkboard and landed routinely into place behind his desk. "Morning, class."   
Any remaining traces of energy dulled and died in that classroom as the droning voice of Professor Binns lectured them seemingly eternally about ancient Irish wizarding wars. Claire was attentive, writing down notes, as did Hatice and Maria, but everyone else seemed liable to fall asleep.   
"...and that brings us to the mention of Morrigan, the famous Irish pureblood whose animagus was a crow, and would fly above battle to foretell doom and fate-"  
"Professor." Professor Binns, whom was interrupted on very rare occasions, raised his brows and fixed his spectacles at the student sitting behind Maria, groomed impeccably in his sapphire robes and gleaming prefect badge.   
"Yes, Mr Lee Euiwoong?"   
"Professor, won't you tell us about Morrigan and her descendant Isolt Sayre?"   
"You are an intelligent student, Mr Lee. I'm sure you already know-"  
"I'm sure everyone would be rather intrigued to hear about Isolt Sayre's founding of Ilvermorny."  
At the mention of the American equivalent of Hogwarts, everyone perked up a little from where they were slouching upon their desks.  
"We are currently discussing about an Irish war that will eventually shape British wizarding history, Ilvermorny branches off into American-"   
"Professor! Let's hear about it!" Shouted Ahn Hyeongsup.   
"Pipe down please Mr Ahn, I have a curriculum to follow." But after realising he had finally garnered the attention of his students, he caved and rose from his seat in one swift motion, soaring over his desk and landing gingerly next to Claire's desk. His intangible form shimmered pearl white in the lamplit room as he glided up and down the aisle between the desks, a pale mirage passing through.  
"Who here," he began, hands folded purposefully behind his back as he surveyed his students. "Has attended Ilvermorny before?" There was a moment's hesitation, and two hands ascended.   
"Of course, we have Miss Enriquez who joined us this year and..." Professor Binns adjusted his specs again as he scrutinised the other. "...David Lee."  
A few heads turned his way, mildly surprised at such news. Claire remained staring blankly at her desk top.  
"Isolt Sayre is the descendant of two great predecessors; Morrigan, and a Gaunt. The house of Gaunt are-"   
"Descendants of Salazar Slytherin," finished Claire, not aware she had said it aloud.   
"...yes Miss Enriquez. And Isolt's aunt, Gormlaith Gaunt, did not approve of her pureblood niece's association with muggles... And she lay waste to her childhood home of Ilvermorny and stole Isolt away. She was denied a magical education where she feared she would be interacting with muggleborns, and was also neglected of a wand. But Gormlaith did folly by trying to suppress the budding potential of such blood royalty, and Isolt found herself yearning more and more for the magical school of Hogwarts. And eventually, after finding out the truth of her parents and nefarious aunt, she stole Gormalith's wand and escaped in 1620 to the New World." He paused briefly. He now had the unanimous attention of all his students, something that had never happened before. "There, she befriended a Pukwudgie whom she named William after her late father, having saving his life from that of a Hidebehind-"  
"A Hidebehind??"   
"-Be quiet Mr Joo, this is not Care of Magical Creatures. And there she became fascinated with the river-dwelling Horned Serpent, native to those parts, whom with much astonishment, she realised she could communicate with. As a descendant of Slytherin, she had inherited his parseltongue ability. And the serpent's ominous message to her was always the same; ' _Until I am a part of your family, your family is doomed_ '." He paused again, this time to allow the commotion of scraping chair legs and shuffling feet to fade away from the classroom below. "After an unfortunate confrontation with the same Hidebehind, a wizarding family left their two sons orphaned, and after an argument with the Pukwudgie, Isolt Sayre was abandoned by him and she dedicated her life to adopting and raising the two boys, Chadwick and Webster Boot, with her newlywed muggle husband, James Steward whom had also chanced upon the forest they were residing in. And now, the new family, birthing two twin daughters by the name of Martha and Rionarch- took it upon themselves to begin a magical school, slowly building up upon their small cottage, and by 1634, had expanded into a proper educational institution attended by students nationwide-"  
From the classroom below, the muffled sound of spells been cast drifted upward toward them, followed by thuds and cursing. Professor Binns suppressed a look of irritation. "What's the class downstairs doing?" Whispered Claire.   
"No idea," said Maria.   
"-and all was well, until news of this magical school travelled to the ears of Gormalith Gaunt." He glided back to the front of the class, ignoring the commotion now magnifying from downstairs. "She travelled to America and upon arriving to Ilvermorny, cast a spell to force her niece and her despised muggle husband into deep slumber, and uttered a command in parseltongue that rendered her stolen wand inactive- little did Isolt know, it was a wand passed down through generations, a prized possession, the wand of Salazar Slytherin himself, that comprised a fragment of Basilisk horn. And upon hearing the call of its old master, faithfully slept as instructed. But on the contrary, the wand cores of both Chadwick and Webster- crafted from the horn of the Horned Serpent, responded to their ancient language and emitted a low musical tone to warn their young masters of the forthcoming peril. Upon warning, Chadwick had battled Gormlaith, whom was surprised of his tenacity and skill, but could not overpower her. Webster did not succeed in awakening his parents now in deep slumber, but the cries of their young daughters did- but Isolt could do nothing to defend them now with her inactive wand.  
But success was not within Gormlaith's grasp as she had thought, for the second before she could strike James dead, Isolt screamed out the name of William, her dead father- and William the Pukwudgie stepped in through the window, summoned, and drove the tip of his poisoned arrow into Gormlaith, slaying her mortal form that had been splurging in all manners of dark magic in an attempt to become invisible.   
And thus, the tale ends there. Ilvermorny prospered, and all that threatened it perished. The wand of Salazar Slytherin was abandoned and buried outside school grounds, where from it sprouted a snakewood tree-"  
The floor of the classroom trembled beneath their feet as something heavy and unidentified crashed into the ceiling below, before falling back down with an echoing thud, followed by screaming and loud a barked command as the sound of stumbling bodies fell over each other.   
Finally, Professor Binns could ignore it no more. "Wait here," he commanded to his students, and his incorporeal form delved through the floor and into the classroom below, promptly vanishing.   
The first impulse of the year 6 History of Magic class was to rebel the very order Binns had just uttered.   
"What the hell is going on down there?" Shouted Hyeongsup, shooting up from his seat. Several students crouched on the floor and pressed their ears to the floor, hoping to hear more. Claire and Hatice got up from their seats, looking around wildly. At the back of the classroom, the boy had also gotten up, and in a moment's instance, locked eyes with her from across the classroom, across all space time continuum-  
"Claire! Hatice! Don't go anywhere!" Said Maria, startled. He shook off the arm of the boy sitting next to him, clinging him down, and darted out of the classroom.   
"Hey!" Yelled Euiwoong. "David Lee-"  
 _David?_   
"You're not allowed to leave-"  
 _No. Don't leave._   
"Where is he going?" He demanded, hurrying to the door and peering out. "...He's gone."  
Faint shouting drifted back into audibility, snatches of frantic voice obscured by sobbing and skidding shoes. "Get... Hospital wing... NOW... GET OUT GET OUT-"  
The floor trembled again, but this time it was followed by the sound of stampeding students surging out in the corridor below. Claire's textbooks tipped and toppled to the floor.   
"Don't- Don't push. Hey, YOU- stop that. Single file students, single file- DO NOT WALK THROUGH MY BODY!" Shouted Professor Binns from below.  
Euiwoong swept back into the classroom, looking almost pissed. "That'll be 10 points off Slytherin!" He yelled. "Everyone, calm down!"   
"Where did he go?" Worried Hatice. Claire's heart was beating with palpitating irregularity, hammering against her breastbone. _Lee Daehwi. Where did he go. Where did he go, where did he go. Why did he leave m_ \- And why did it keep plaguing her thoughts like a haunting mantra?   
"STUPEFY!" The shout echoed all around, then started ringing into silence.   
"Ok seriously, screw this, I gotta see-"   
"AHN HYEONGSUP, DO NOT SET EVEN ONE FOOT OUTSIDE OF THIS CLASSROOM!" Prohibited Euiwoong.   
"That was a stunning spell," hissed Hatice. "Claire, what the hell is going on?"   
Eventually, the struggling calmed, and the class stopped attempting to leave in hopes of glimpsing the action. Haknyeon Joo jumped as Professor Binn's head popped up over his desk. "Students, class is dismissed early!" He barked, then disappeared again.  
The class swarmed out, still in relative confusion but happy for the early dismissal, dispersed down the corridors. A couple of them, namely Hyeongsup and Haknyeon, were eager to see what was going on, and hurried over toward the stairs.   
"Well? Should we see?" Said Claire. The answer, however, came to them in the form of a solitary figure wandering up the stairs toward them. "Charlie," she called. "Did you come out to see what was going on?" She looked oddly out of it. "Charlie?" Suddenly snapping, she hastened over.   
"Guys-"   
"What's wrong Charlie?" Asked Hatice.   
"You wouldn't believe- and no, Claire, I was _in_ that class-"  
"You were in the class where all the shit was going down?" Said Claire.   
"Dude, yeah! And- hell- it was crazy. There's about ten teachers down there right now, and they've barricaded the classroom so Guanlin can't get out-"  
"Guanlin? Guanlin Lai?" Said Maria suddenly, raising her voice.   
"Yeah... We were having Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins," rushed Charlie. "And-well- WAIT I GOTTA SEE IF SEONHO IS OK!"   
"What? Charlie tell us what happened. What's wrong with Seonho? Who-"   
"Yoo Seonho! Is in the hospital wing right now!" Shouted Charlie. "My friend is GONNA DIE!"   
"He is?" Gasped Hatice.   
"Are you sure Charlie?"   
Charlie started hurtling toward the Hospital Wing. "What-? Charlie, stop-"  
"We were just having normal class- then, then Professor Mills suggested we practise duelling for the first time. Like, proper duelling, so we were all partnered up. And well, you guys all know the best duelist in our class is Guanlin Lai, so he- Mills- called him up for a demonstration, and Seonho, you know how they're close, he volunteered to be his partner. And then, like, that's when shit went down. He- Guanlin- pointed the wand at Seonho, and it was as though he went out of his mind. It was like he was possessed, he started bearing down on him- and he was yelling curse after curse and Seonho kept getting hit, and Mills tried stopping him but then he hit him with one last one- and he got thrown into the ceiling and fell back down. And when he fell- gosh, there was, so much blood. And it went everywhere, it seeped into the shoes of people standing at front, and this girl screamed, and-" They skidded sharply around a corner, and Charlie didn't even pause to catch his breath. "-And then he turned, and, and he pointed his wand at, at the..."   
"At?"  
"...us, he was point at the crowd. Dude, he was crazed. He was all silent and all, right after he almost murdered Seonho, with this menacing dark look about him. And well, everyone thought he was gonna go haywire again, and start murdering us maybe, and we all tried to get out. Then that's when Binns came down and got us out, while Mills knocked him out, but man, it was difficult, I didn't know Guanlin was that strong.  
Then basically we alerted the nearby classes who probably all heard everything anyway, and one of them carried Seonho to the hospital wing." There was brief silence as they had to stop to allow a few passing Hufflepuff first years.  
"I'm sure he's ok," reassured Hatice. "Madame Yoomi can patch him up in no time."  
Upon finally reaching the hospital wing, Charlie practically burst in. "SEONHO, ARE YOU-"  
"I'M OK!!!" Shouted Seonho from where he was, propped up against the pillows, waving at them with one bandaged arm.   
"Don't move!" Stressed the matron as she stirred him a potion seething in billowing steam.   
"Are you sure? Dude, you were bleeding so much!" Wheezed Charlie, running up.  
"Yep! Professor Yoomi sealed my wound in a matter of minutes!"   
"How bad was it Madame-"   
"None of you all should not be in here!' She snapped. "I'm working on a patient here!"  
"Please, Madame, just a minute-"   
"Then a minute it is!" She finalised, and handed Seonho the cup. "Drink slowly."   
"Yeah, she sewed my stomach back together in like, woah, I barely even blinked, it was like magic- well it was-"   
"SHE SEWED YOUR WHAT WITH WHAT?"   
"Hell yeah man, my breakfast might've spilled out-"  
"YOUR WHAT WAS GONNA WHAT- what did you eat for breakfast?"  
"Scones, man."  
"The ones with the jam and cream in them? Hell yeah man, I had some this morning too. BUT YOUR WHAT-"  
As Charlie barraged him with questions about his wellbeing, Claire and the others collapsed on the neighbouring bed. Madame Yoomi had left to attend to other matters when she was satisfied Seonho was no longer endangered and comfortable.  
"Why the hell did Guanlin do that? I thought Seonho was his friend," questioned Hatice, skeptic. "Furthermore, I didn't think he would be the type to do that in the first place... Though I cannot really vouch for sure, when I do not know him on a personal level." The hectic morning was gradually dissolving into soothing afternoon where nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The image of the hospital wing was oddly serene, everything in its usual ordered and sterile environment, light streaming in through the high windows.   
"Friend or not, he shouldn't have done that," said Claire slowly. In the distance, the faint sound of laughter and chatter could be heard as students headed out for break. "You think he'll be expelled?"   
The whole time, Maria had not uttered a word, rather looking a little pale. Her usually silken dark hair sported loose, slightly dishevelled strands because she kept running her hands through. But now, it seemed something was on her mind. "...I think," she cautioned, warranting the looks of Claire and Hatice. "That he had a motive. It was not just gratuitous violence for the sake of it."  
"And that is?" Pressed Hatice, leaning in.   
"...Well, think about his background. Compare Guanlin's and Seonho's." Claire and Hatice stared at her blankly, before the implications behind her accusations dawned on them.   
"No- you don't think-?"  
"You're not saying-"  
"I am," Maria deadpanned. "I think he's very capable."  
"You're saying," emphasised Claire, a little incredulous. "That you think that Guanlin is prejudiced towards muggleborns so he attacked Seonho for _that_?"   
"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying." A brief silence.  
"That can't be true. Guanlin and Seonho were friends since, how long? He's never done this before, why now? I'm sure he's better than that- or well, at least knows better."  
"You don't know him," Maria murmurs quietly.   
"Do you?" Said Hatice. Another uncomfortable silence.   
"I heard his family are elitist purebloods. So of course it might've passed on to him," Maria argued defiantly.  
"Again, I'm ruling that out as a theory-" started Claire.  
"You might be right, honestly." The three of them looked over. Seonho was asleep, probably because of the potion, his face chiselled yet soft, illuminated by the sunlight slanted through the high windows, long lashes collecting golden motes of dust. Charlie sat down heavily next to them, surveying his unconscious friend.   
"What makes you say that?" Said Claire in surprise. Charlie stared down at Seonho, playing with her hands anxiously. Through her eyes, Claire glimpsed a world of torment.  
"Everyone _thought_ he was gonna start firing randomly into the crowd," she enunciated slowly. "Everyone thought he was pointing just... At us. But I'm not crazy, I know it. He was looking right at me, straight in my eyes. Chilled me to the damn bone. I was the one he was gonna attack." She looked up. Haunted, by invisible ghosts. "And guess what I bloody am? To them, I'm just another filthy mudblood."  
Claire had always been a bit of a theoriser, a bit of a dabbler in the possibilities rather than what things seemed to be. And as of now, her mind was beginning to cave to such an instinct.  
Somewhere in the wizarding world, a dark plot was brooding, festering and spreading its seed.   
And it seemed such one had planted itself into their deceptively insignificant lives.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long because my exam interfered... anyhow hope this was even worth the wait lol, the chapter isn't even that long jsndjsjs sorry. Idk who reads this but thank you for the people who have been giving me kudos! <3


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